


Hungry Hungry Hippo

by Judy_The_Dreamer



Series: Faerie prince Steve Rogers and his not so secretive aquatically-inclined friends [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Faerie AU, Faerie Steve Rogers, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Magical Creatures, Octopus shifter Bucky, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Shifter AU, adopting a pet, north-american house hippo, the secret power of doritos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-22 23:05:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18537292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Judy_The_Dreamer/pseuds/Judy_The_Dreamer
Summary: Deprived of believers by the modern world, Steve Rogers is perhaps the most lacklustre earth faerie prince you’ll ever meet. Good thing he’s a man with a plan. Unfortunately for Steve, he hasn’t quite figured out that the people he’s charming aren’t exactly human in every sense of the word.With his health gradually getting better, it's time for Steve to indulge himself and buy a very special pet. Poor Bucky suffers because of it.





	Hungry Hungry Hippo

**Author's Note:**

> Just when I thought this series couldn't get any crackier, Ceealaina told me of the North-American House Hippo on Discord and this happened...
> 
> Written for the Bucky Barnes Bingo 2019 - Y4: Adopting a pet

Forever remembered and celebrated would be the day that Dr. Banner, friendly neighbourhood physician and oddball, pressed his stethoscope against Steve Rogers’ chest and declared his heart murmur and asthma gone. Steve himself had been too occupied with the cold sensation of the metal on his sensitive skin for the words to fully sink in until his mother abruptly buried her face in her hands and started crying. For a minute there Steve feared he’d missed his own death notice, but Bruce Banner was too solemn a man to be smiling at a man’s approaching demise. So, the faerie took it as a sign that his days weren’t numbered just yet. Indeed, his life had suddenly become a great deal lengthier than anyone could have predicted.

Mystified as he was at the disappearance of two of Steve’s chronic health problems, the doctor went through the tests three more times before he released him back into the world with a relatively clean bill of health. Free to stop his restrictive diet, free to start to exercise and, most importantly, _ free to get the pet he’d always wanted. (Goodbye, allergies!) _

Nearly vibrating with excitement, the faerie dropped off his very relieved mother with a kiss and a promise to call soon before running all the way to the magical bazaar where vibrant shops of many different sizes sold supernatural pets from all over the world. (Only if you swore a binding oath to care for it until the end of its days, of course. Faeries were notoriously bent on proper pet care.)

Face pressed against the glass storefront of Faefolken Wonders, Steve peered into the dimly lit store and searched for the sign he’d spotted earlier that month. His breath caught as he read the advertisement scrawled in nearly indecipherable longhand. 

 

_ Exclusively available at Faefolken Wonders: _

 

_ North-American House Hippo! _

 

With a grin, Steve entered the store and made the purchase of a lifetime.

 

******

 

When Steve had called him up at work to say he’d bought a celebratory pet, Bucky had shrugged and said that he was fine with sharing his apartment with whatever cute woodland creature the faerie had set his heart on. What he hadn’t prepared for, however, was the sheer insanity of a miniature hippo snuggling into a nest of old scarves, happily munching on peanut butter covered bread crumbs.

Bucky kind of lost it there for a minute.

I mean, was it too much to ask for Steve to not drag any more creatures attuned to water into his life? At this rate they would run out of space in the bathtub and the octopus shifter simply refused to have the tiny creature bobbing about as he and Nat got up to some adult activity. 

But Steve was so clearly in love with the miniature hippo that Bucky couldn’t find it in him to complain and diminish the joy in his friend’s eyes. He’d have to learn how to cope with the bathroom competition, maybe go so far as to buy the little rascal a kiddy pool to splash around in. In the meantime he could try to win brownie points with his new flatmate by keeping Steve from trying to fit it into a tiny pink tutu. (“Yeah, you’re right,” the faerie agreed, rubbing his chin in thought. “A red jacket would be so much cooler.” Bucky facepalmed.)

 

Thus, the Barnes-Rogers household was peaceful for awhile, until Bucky began to notice some odd things occuring in the apartment. At night, things moved around: coats were removed from their hangers and laid out on the closet floor, the TV played a different channel from the one Steve and him had left it on the night before and, most worryingly, their supply of crisps always seemed to be running low. 

Of course, Bucky’s suspicions didn’t fall on the hippo first, because it was ridiculous to think such a small creature could reach the pantry above the stove. So, he did the sensible thing and called in the local witch to check out the situation. Darcy Lewis was incredibly capable at her job, but Bucky found her cooing over the hippo more times than she actually appeared to be trying to sense any lingering energies. At the end of the visit, she declared their apartment ghost-free and left with a last few scritches under the hippo’s chin. 

Yet the strange occurrences didn’t stop, they even seemed to increase in scope. One morning Bucky woke up to find all chairs in the apartment moved around to match the carpet in every room. When he’d woken up Steve to show him, the faerie had blinked sleepily and congratulated him on his taste in interior decoration, so Bucky had resigned himself to stewing in his own frustrations until he could determine the cause of the nightly incidents.

 

The thing that finally incriminated the hippo naturally had to do with the bathtub that Bucky still considered his undisputed domain. The octopus had been completely horrified to discover his beautiful, pristine tub defiled with the glittery remains of a bathbomb. After he’d scrubbed the porcelain clean within an inch of its life, shuddering as the miniscule bits of plastic stuck to his skin, Bucky had entered the kitchen to see the hippo happily splashing around in the sink while Steve prepared dinner closeby. When it spotted him lurking in the doorway, glittery sponge clutched firmly in hand, the creature squeaked and quickly submerged it’s adorable, plump body. That was a confession of guilt if Bucky ever saw one.

From there on out, Bucky had plotted to catch the little demon living under his roof in the act, complicated whiteboard diagrams included. The crux of his grand plan was a premium bag of doritos, left conspicuously on the kitchen table. An irresistible snack for a hungry hungry house hippo. 

That night he hid under the bedcovers and listened for the pitter-patter of little feet. Around three in the morning his patience was rewarded by the sound of chair legs being dragged over the floor and Bucky jumped out of bed as quietly as possible to sneak towards the kitchen, prepared to catch the hippo red handed.

The crime scene was not what the shifter had expected, however. 

Perched on the table, a hand of crisps shoved into her mouth, sat a teenage girl. Bucky estimated her somewhere between the age of seventeen and nineteen, clearly of faerie heritage with how delicate her features were. Her big, luminescent eyes were fixed on him as her jaw froze in the middle of chewing. The octopus sincerely hoped she wouldn’t choke.

Later, when she’d worked down the handful of crisps, Bucky would learn that her name was Wanda, she was very European and she had a brother who mysteriously went missing after he’d shifted into a ferret. The only clue left to her was a ledger entry of a fast ferret sold to an American buyer. After hearing her sad tale, Bucky felt rather petty for getting upset over a single bath bomb, but he still dragged Steve out of bed to say ‘I told you so’. 

_ Baby steps. (Or, well, tiny house hippo steps.) _


End file.
